


Still worth saving

by Elisexyz



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-11 18:13:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17451911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: Garrett's sudden death leaves Grant stuck on his now meaningless undercover operation on the Bus.Obviously the best way to deal with this is punching things non-stop until he reopens his stitches - and possibly bleeds to death, if he's lucky.





	Still worth saving

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tumblr prompt: [62\. “It’s okay to cry…” + Biospecialist](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/post/182327037099/62-it-okay-to-cry-for-biospec-3). Featuring Grant not dealing with his feelings and Jemma being cute.

Simmons has been staring.

He noticed her the moment she walked in, trying not to make any noise even though that’s close to impossible considering that they are the only two people to still be awake on that plane, but he said nothing, half hoping that she’d lose courage and decide to leave him the hell alone.

He supposes he should thank his lucky stars that it isn’t _Skye_ paying him another visit, because today he really has no patience for her nosiness and eagerness to _connect_ and _help_. Normally he’d be jumping at the chance to insert himself some more in the team, particularly after that staff accident that left everyone a little stiff around him, but now?

What is he even keeping up the act for? He doesn’t give a shit about Hydra, or even SHIELD for that matter, he was doing it all for John and it was all for absolutely _nothing_.

He should probably just off everybody and steal a jet to make his escape: he’d be on the run for the rest of his life, but at least that would give him something to _do_.

Except he doesn’t particularly like the idea of being stuck alone with his head. Skye’s chatter, Fitz’s clumsy attempts at offering support, Coulson’s fatherly concern— they are all irritating on so many levels – especially now, when he’s so angry that he can barely see straight and _everything_ frustrates him –, but they are _something_ to focus on.

And he really has nowhere else to go, does he?

“Are you going to stare at me all night?” he finally decides to ask, turning sharply around as soon as he gets too fed-up with the staring to prevent himself from doing something about it. It comes off harsher than he’d normally let himself be, and Simmons seems startled, but she soon recovers and he isn’t in the mood to feel properly sorry right now.

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” she says, carefully walking up to him. She seems a little wary, and she has every reason to be: it’s a wonder that that punching bag is still standing, and he wouldn’t really mind breaking some skulls right now.

He bites back a sharp ‘You did’, because that would be too much, and he’s irritated to notice that she’s being so— not-Simmons right now. She usually doesn’t _care_ to disturb him when he’s pushing it too far, she just bitches about it, because that’s what she _does_.

Instead she’s treating him with kid gloves, because they can all _see_ how off the tracks John’s death pushed him, although they can’t really understand the extent of it, and it’s a very uncomfortable position to be in.

“Did you need something?” he asks, harshly. He’s pretty much undoing all the work that, since he touched the staff, he has been doing to show the team that he’s a Good Guy, that all that anger wasn’t _him_ , that they can _trust_ him— well, they can’t exactly throw him out just because he’s being an asshole, and winning everybody’s trust isn’t that important anymore.

Simmons stares at him intently for a few seconds, not showing any of the hurt or offence that he was half-heartedly expecting, then her expression shifts to something more familiar.

“ _Yes_ ,” she says, forcefully, and that’s her scolding tone. She’s about to _scold_ him. Grant is too taken aback to do anything but keep staring. “Yes, I did— I needed to tell you that you are still in _recovery_ , and you have been punching that thing for _hours_ —”

“I’m feeling fine,” he points out, his shoulders relaxing a little as he tries to wrap his head around the sudden change of tune.

“No, you aren’t,” she counters, crossing her arms and giving him a pointed look. “I can smell the blood from here,” she adds, confidently.

He raises his eyebrows, somehow finding it in him to be a little amused at that. “Really?”

Simmons nods solemnly. “I’m willing to bet that you have reopened your stitches, _again_ , and that you are bleeding to death under that sweaty shirt.”

She then proceeds to unceremoniously step forward and pull his shirt up, revealing the now very much bloody bandage that covers the wound he acquired during their last mission – it’s little more than a paper-cut, she’s being dramatic – and shooting him a smug look.

“What did I tell you?”

He rolls his eyes, because considering the rate he had been going at against that punching bag it wasn’t too difficult to guess that he had reopened every stitch that could be reopened.

“It’s just a cut,” he points out.

“One that we are going to clean immediately. Come on,” she adds, when he doesn’t immediately follow her. She tugs his arm, apparently not caring much about the fact that he could crash her head against the wall like nothing, and, well, at least this is the most normal that anyone has acted around him since when Coulson gave him the news – he has even caught _May_ looking at him weird, although she’s careful not to give much away when she knows he can see –, so he’ll take it.

Simmons makes him take a seat while she gets everything she needs to ‘start over with all the work that she had already done but that he has no respect for’, muttering under her breath about specialists and their ‘utter lack of common sense’.

The corner of his mouth twitches upwards, and he’s almost glad that she sought him out.

Of course, it wasn’t going to last.

As she starts cleaning up the blood, a tense silence falls between them, and he can already guess the kind of conversation they are about to have before she even opens her mouth.

“I had an aunt I was really close to—” she begins, keeping her eyes fixated on her work and her tone casual. That’s still not enough for his anger not to flare up.

“Don’t,” he interrupts, curtly.

She ignores him. “—when she passed away, all the sorrys and sympathies were a little irritating—” she continues, and he doesn’t bother masking a ‘no shit’ expression that she isn’t even looking at anyway. “—so I won’t do that.” There’s a but coming. “But— I do believe that you need someone to point out to you that—that it’s okay to cry.” The pause that follows is nowhere near long enough for him to come up with a decent reply. “It’s actually really healthy. Processing grief—”

“Simmons,” he quickly interrupts, before this can turn into a surprise encounter with a wannabe shrink. “I’m fine.”

She raises her eyebrows, looking up to him. “Should I interpret that as your denial stage?”

“I don’t need a shrink,” he says, with a pointed look, half-hoping that this will be the end of it.

Since the universe doesn’t seem to hate him _that_ much after all, Simmons only purses her lips, staring at him thoughtfully.

“I suppose you don’t,” she finally says.

She has gone back to working in silence, and he’s kind of taking into consideration the possibility that he should maybe apologize or say that he appreciates the concern or something, just because he kinda likes Simmons, there’s no reason to take it out on _her_ , but she beats him to it.

“Don’t resume to punching that bloody thing like nothing happened,” she orders, giving him a pointed look. “I would recommend you to get some sleep, but since I know you won’t, I have another idea.”

“Meaning?” he asks, frowning a little.

She offers a bright smile. “I was planning on watching a movie, since I am not particularly tired. Care to join me?”

He knows that she _is_ tired, he can see it in the way she had to repress a couple of yawns and at times she needed to blink in rapid succession to clear her vision, but she’s doing her best to look energic, and that’s because she wants an excuse to keep him company. She’s offering a distraction, and it’s sweet in a way that makes his stomach twist pleasantly.

“Alright,” he says, quietly. It comes out sounding a lot like a thank you in his own ears, and maybe in Simmons’ too, because her smile gets visibly brighter.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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